Twelve
by scarlet phlame
Summary: There he was, a familiar unfamiliar man with the face of a man he loathed all the same.


_**Summary: There he was, a familiar unfamiliar man with the face of a man he loathed all the same.**_

* * *

It was midnight, and Captain Jack Harkness sat on the staircase in front of where the Hub had used to be. Ironically, it'd been the only thing in the area to really survive the explosion. It'd also been the last place he'd sat in Cardiff and actually talked, _really_ talked to Ianto.

So here he was, sitting dejectedly on the staircase, WWII coat spread out behind him on the dusty ground as he stared out into the city. The air was inky black, and the cloak of night was stretched out across the sky, illuminating stars and the moon.

Black and white, but never piercing blue.

He winced as he heard footsteps approaching, but kept his gaze lifted skywards, hoping the strangers would brush past and out of view.

"Cardiff? Really, though, why Cardiff?"

The fist sounded like a girl, and Jack didn't turn to discover a visual in which to place the voice. However, the second was a different story.

"Well... refuel... rift in space and time, or is it time and space, always getting the two mixed up, and that's..."

He knew that voice.

He hated that voice.

He sprung up immediately, hand whipping down and back up with his favourite revolver; the Webley Mk. IV, the trigger swiftly pulled back.

"Hands on the back of your head!" he ordered, ignoring the aghast expression on the girl's face and the confused one on Frobisher. When they failed to move, he barked out, "now!"

The girl's hands flew to the back of her head, but Frobisher, being Frobisher, seemed less likely to coincide with her actions.

"Come on, Jack, you know me," Frobisher coaxed.

"Don't I ever," Jack sneered, face twisting into an ugly leer. "Hands behind your heads, now! And don't think I won't shoot!"

"Jack," Frobisher said, slowly outstretching a hand, as if to reason, "come on, put the gun down."

"As if I would. Hands on your head, _now_!" he shouted, biting out each word like poison.

"It's me. I have a different face. I'm the Doctor," Frobisher insisted.

Jack let out an angry snarl, tearing towards the man and throwing him to the ground in utter rage. "This isn't funny!"

The dark-haired girl immediately jumped in front of Frobisher. "It's the Doctor! It's him! Now, stop it!" she screamed.

Jack laughed brutally. "Who's the kid? Someone you picked up, Frobisher?"

"I am not John Frobisher," the man hissed.

"And I'm not Captain Jack Hark... And the Lone Ranger didn't have a thing for Tonto," Jack chuckled, face immediately twisting into a grimace once more as he took another step towards Frobisher. The girl jumped back, hands still on her head, although, if looks could kill, Jack's immortality might be put to the test.

"He's the Doctor!" the girl screamed. "I don't know any Frobisher, all right? Can you please put the gun down?! He's the Doctor!"

He turned to face her. "Is that what he told you?"

"It's what I know," the girl said stubbornly.

"Then it's a lie," he seethed. "I know the Doctor. The Doctor-"

"Has a blue box he calls the TARDIS, occasionally rambles from time to time, is a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, and just regenerated so please. Let. Us. Go!" the girl looked absolutely exhausted.

"Low-level brainwash, maybe?" Jack suggested, staring at the girl as if analysing a patient, although the comment was more to reassure himself. "Listen. This man is not the Doctor."

"See you in hell," Frobisher said, and Jack turned to face him, tears springing up in his eyes.

"Where did you hear that?" he pressed, crouching down next to the familiar unfamiliar man.

Frobisher paused. "Jack, it's me. I know, I look different, but it's still me."

Jack bit his lip, hard, until it drew blood. "Tell me something only the Doctor would know," he said softly, the gun already lowering to his side.

The man who didn't seem to be Frobisher, at least, not anymore, bit his lip. "We met in WWII, remember? Gas mask zombies, walking around, mumbling 'are you my mummy'. It was your fault, the Chula ambulance caused those nanogenes to spread through the air... Which is rubbish, nanogenes are really stupid, when you think about it-"

Jack dropped the gun on the floor and fell over. "Oh, my God, Doctor! Can you atleast warn me next time you-"

The girl cleared her throat, kicking the gun away. "You done trying to kill us?"

"Sorry, sorry," Jack backtracked. "Oh, God, Doctor, I was gonna shoot you!"

"I noticed," the Doctor mumbled. Jack outstretched a hand and helped him stand.

"It's good to see you again," Jack said, smiling a little. "By the way, where the hell were you?"

The Doctor froze. "Pardon?"

"Oh, you know, it was just the end o' the world, nothing drastic, I'm sure. Oh, but while you're here, you can help with the 456, which want ten percent of the children of Earth- oh, no, whoops, we fixed that, Steven died. That's okay, though, you can help with the Miracle where everyone on Earth's become immortal, an- no, sorry, we fixed that, too!" Jack ranted. "Were you trying to ignore us on purpose, too busy on your frozen planets and alien-fighting adventures to stop for five bloody days and help? No?"

The Doctor stared at the ground remorsefully. "I... Look, Jack, I wanted to come, but I was scared. The last time I messed with a fixed point in time... someone died. Captain Adelaide Brooke-"

"But she killed herself," Jack argued, before pausing. "Oh. Oh, no. Doctor?"

"Yeah," the Doctor muttered. "'S my fault, really. But I couldn't come 'round, Jack, I really couldn't. It was a fixed point in time; everyone in the Thames House died, and one child was sacrificed to save the world. Same with the Miracle."

Jack shook his head, tears scalding the back of his eyes. "They killed him. They killed Ianto."

"I know."

"Can't you fix it?" he begged. "Bring him back."

"I can't," the Doctor said. "I can't fix this."

"Then what is the point of you?" Jack hissed. "Did you even care?"

"Of course I cared!" the Doctor shouted, hands shaking. "I did, I did! Sarah Jane, she called me, _begged_ me to come and help Luke. And I couldn't, because I was _scared_!"

Jack pressed his hand to his forehead. "I know. I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

They stood like that, out in the cold, dark, Cardiff air, for a long time.

* * *

_**AN: Well, it had to happen.**_

_**Sorry if 12 sounded like 10 a bit, haven't really seen 12 yet, so don't know how to write for him...**_

_**Anyway, R&R?**_


End file.
